Spoons
by celticmusebooks
Summary: Fluffy humor inspired by one of George Takei's recent Facebook posts. Rating for implication of sexual situations and some instances of colorful metaphor provoked by Vulcan cluelessness.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing of STAR TREK save for my undying love.

Thanks to my amazing beta Djinn 1 YOU ROCK!

Christine Chapel gave a soft pleasured moan as soft lips trailed leisurely down her neck toward parts lower.

"Oh yes, yes there, gods yes there, there."

"You like that?" There was a gentle amusement in his voice, but his dark brown eyes blazed with undeniable arousal.

"Yes," she responded. "Please don't stop, Vinnie."

Vincent DeSalle's tantalizingly wet mouth moved lower still and she wriggled backward to allow him better access. But it seemed that there was something behind her, something delightfully warm moving against her.

"What the…?" She opened one eye as something hard poked her in the small of the back.

The exquisite torture of DeSalle's tongue dissipated with her dream into the chilly morning air stealing through the vents of the Fleet issue sleeppod. It took all of her strength of will to stem the desire to scream in frustration.

_Dardella four_, she recalled slowly as the fog of sleep gave ground. She was part of the landing party on Dardella four. _The ion storm-_ yes the picture was gradually fleshing itself out. She and Leonard had been gathering plant specimens when Spock had come to inform them of the fast moving storm. It was too risky to attempt using the transporter to return them to the ship. They had no alternative but to wait the storm out planetside.

She and Leonard had hurriedly packed up the equipment while Spock, DeSalle, and Morelli had scouted out a potential spot to set up camp until the storm passed. They'd been fortunate in finding a nearby cave about six meters up the cliff face. It was small, but would provide adequate shelter from the icy winds that would become life threatening after sunset.

Christine hadn't been particularly keen on spending the night camped out on the frigid planet, but the gruesome death of Admiral Cipriani and Commander Sonak three weeks ago was still disturbingly fresh in her mind. Although she didn't share Len's phobia about using the transporter, it was difficult to get Jan's description of the grisly scene as she'd tried to reassemble the mangled bodies from the garbled transporter signal out of her mind.

Five people stranded on some godforsaken planet with only three sleeping pods- it was like something out of one of the cheesy romance holovids Nyota was so crazy about_._

_Romance?_ Perhaps there might be a silver lining after all, she had mused recalling the heat of Vince DeSalle's eyes on her body as he had ever so nonchalantly volunteered to share his two person pod with her. They'd been talking for the past few days about taking their budding relationship to the next level. _Maybe this is a sign?_ She'd wondered as she'd shyly nodded her agreement and was rewarded by a brief conspiratorial smile.

"I believe it would be more logical for you to share your sleeppod with Ensign Morelli, Lieutanent. DeSalle. Doctor Chapel can share my pod. Doctor McCoy will take the remaining pod."

"Logical?" she'd protested.

"You can share with me, Chris," McCoy had offered with a warm smile as unpacked the small firepit from his emergency pack.

"No offense, Len, but your snoring is worse than a sehlat in heat," she'd countered glumly as the brief vision of her romantic idyll went up in smoke.

"How can this," she'd said as she made a sort of circle in the air pointing to Spock then herself and then the sleeppod on the ground in front of him, "be the logical solution? I would think this would be your worst nightmare."

"Vulcans are not as a rule prone to nightmares, Doctor," he'd responded sharply, punctuating his pronouncement with a sharp upward quirk of his right eyebrow. Ironically there had been a time when she'd found that gesture heart wrenchingly charming. At that moment, however, it had simply made her want to smack the Vulcan crap out of him.

"But—"

"There are 3 sleeppods and five crewmembers. It would be illogical to inflict Doctor McCoy's snoring on any of us so it is logical that he occupy one of the pods by himself. That leaves in order of rank myself, you, Lieutenant DeSalle, and . As Starfleet protocol for our present situation dictates assigning the pods based on rank I see no other alternative."

_Logic,_ Chapel sighed, that eternal Vulcan rain on her happiness parade. Instead of a night of unbridled passion with the red blooded and majorly hunky Vince DeSalle, she was trapped with the green blooded, pointy eared Commander Buzzkill who, based on the pain in her back, didn't have the good sense to take off his phaser before crawling into their sleeppod.

They were on a completely uninhabited planet for heavens sake; what exactly had he been planning to shoot in the middle of the night? Did he think he'd need it to fend off her amorous advances? It had taken her six years and a king's ransom in self help books, but she had finally come to the realization that she was wasting her life pining away for a man who would never want her, and that there were plenty of men like Vincent DeSalle who were more than willing to help mend her broken heart.

She took a deep calming breath. _The past is in the past, Christine. Let it go and move forward._ In a few more hours she'd be back on the ship in her own bed and this would all be behind her. And, she decided with a warm swell of desire, if she had her way about it she wouldn't be alone in that bed. Whatever doubts had been holding her back from moving things forward with Vince were gone now. The first warm tendrils of sleep had begun to pull her under when she felt another jab to her hip.

"Damn it!" She jabbed backward with her elbow, making sharp contact with his ribs.

"I swear to God if you poke me with that thing again I'm going to rip it off and throw it down the cliff face."


	2. Chapter 2

Spock muttered a strangled oath in the ancient tongue of his ancestors, a visceral plea to the primordial goddesses pleading for deliverance from the torture of the raging fire consuming him. He thrust his hips in a slow, searching rhythm, as the sweet friction of sensitive swollen flesh against the softness of the other brought building waves of unspeakable pleasure, and as each wave ebbed it was replaced with an even greater longing for more.

He buried his face in the silken mass of her dark hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her. It was as though he could capture her very essence within himself, to enshrine her being within his own katra and revel in the exquisite magic of their oneness for all eternity.

He could sense the delicate mysteries of her desires shyly open to him, reaching out- such strange human desires, all the more exciting because of their forbidden alien nature. Each of her longings, each desire found a counterpart within him, making their individual needs and desires irrevocably one, their lives, their destinies one single perfect path.

Then sharp, searing pain flooded his being, and his katra cried out protesting such an unceremonious expulsion from paradise.

"I swear to God if you poke me with that thing again I'm going to rip it off and throw it down the cliff face. And get your hands out of my hair! What's wrong with you?"

Spock hastily relocated his hands, less from a desire to comply with her demand than from the universal masculine reflex to protect his manhood from the implied danger of attack.

"I…am sorry," he mumbled. Breathing deeply he focused his resources on rerouting the blood flow from his painfully erect penis, but the intoxicating combination of her nearness and feminine scent was making the task nearly impossible. If Vulcans were capable of nightmares he was certain this would have been one.

What madness had possessed him to embark upon this irrational endeavor? It was a rhetorical question of course; the answer to that question was curled up beside him. He allowed himself an inward sigh, careful not to disturb the catalyst for his uncharacteristic imprudence as she rolled back onto her side, taking far more than her share of their blanket with her.

He did not bother to dispute the injustice, lest he rekindle her ire and provoke her to make good on her threat to separate him from his genitalia. Besides, in his current predicament the cold might be of some assistance in returning his body to its normal state.

It had started out to be a routine operation, the final phase in a survey of the small Minshara class planet to determine its potential for humanoid colonization. The initial data showed an uninhabited and rather inhospitable planet that showed little promise for any sort of serious colonization.

The landing party had just completed the last of their tasks. The sensors and subspace relays had been placed and activated, and they'd been able to gather a representative sample of the planet's limited plant life. He had been aware of the approaching ion storm, but by his calculations there was still more than an acceptable window to finish their task and return to the ship.

He'd contacted transport with the coordinates for beam out, but it had been Jim, not Janice Rand, who had answered his call.

"Well, Mr Spock, it appears we're going to have to cancel our chess game this evening."

"Sir?"

"We're already getting hit with the first waves of electromagnetic interference from the storm. Rand and Scotty both agree that it's too risky to use the transporter to retrieve your team until it passes. You have emergency packs?"

"Three."

"That should keep you for the night. You know Spock, this might be the perfect opportunity to take care of that little problem we talked about last night."

"Problem?"

"Chapel, Spock, Chapel! You asked for my advice on how to get some alone time with Christine Chapel. Damned ironic turn of events there, eh, Spock"

"Yes, Jim, I assure you the irony of the situation has not been lost on me."

In the weeks since the meld with V'ger Spock had found himself questioning every aspect of his life. After years of struggling to suppress the human part of himself, he now understood that both halves of his nature had value, and that in order to be whole, he would need to find a balance between the Vulcan Spock and the human Spock.

_This simple feeling._ How pitifully naïve he'd been. Nothing could ever be simple where humans were concerned. His meditations over the past weeks had brought him to a most startling epiphany. Christine Chapel, he understood with crystal clarity that he wanted Christine Chapel. Christine Chapel, a warm, loving, human woman, an equal to stand beside him, a true bondmate for the human and Vulcan within him. That new awareness had brought with it a profound sense of peace and joy that he had not believed possible.

But at the very time that Spock wished to share his new understanding with Christine, she seemed to be intent on avoiding any contact with him. On the handful of occasions he'd been able to maneuver the two of them into direct contact she had been polite, but unresponsive to his overtures.

"Well, Spock," Kirk continued. "As I see it you've got the next ten hours holed up on a deserted planet."

"Sir?"

Kirk sighed. "Look for an opportunity to get her away from the others. It might give the two of you the chance to talk."

As it turned out Christine was quite adept at avoiding him, even within the close confines of the Fleet issue sleeppod. She'd coolly deflected his every attempt to make conversation and now here he was in a most humiliating predicament.

He had little experience of women, with the notable exception of the failed bonding to T'Pring. The concept of romance was outside of his Vulcan nature and culture, yet he knew that for Christine to accept him as a mate he would need to present his case in warmer, more human, terms.

It appeared Spock had placed undue confidence in Kirk's ability to advise him in matters of human courtship. Kirk's suggestion was clearly not working, and if anything the wall of anger she'd put up against him was growing stronger. The Vulcan within him told him the logical thing to do was to find a way through that wall. Perhaps it was time to cut to the heart of the matter and simply be direct with her.

"Why are you angry with me?" he whispered.

"I told you, I don't wish to engage in conversation of a personal nature. Go back to sleep."

"I am troubled, Christine, troubled that you appear to go out of your way to avoid me. I simply seek to understand the reason why you are so averse to my presence. Is there something I have done to offend you in some way?"

"It troubles you?" She laughed bitterly. "I used to ask myself that same question when you used to avoid me. I tried to understand how I offended you so deeply that you couldn't stand to be in the same room with me. It used to 'trouble' me too, until I finally figured out that you were just a damn jackass."

"Christine-"

"No! Leave me alone! I'm going back to sleep and suggest you do the same-and for the love of heaven take off that damn phaser."

"I am not wearing a phaser."

"You're not?"

"I believe I have already stated that," he responded.

"Well then what in the hell is poking me in the…oh…dear gods!"

Christine sat up and frantically ripped open the seal of the sleeppod.

"Holy-no-this can't be happening. Oh my God! Are you…is it…I need…I need to get my mediscaner. Leonard, I need to get Leonard-he'll know what to do."

"There is no need for Dr. McCoy," Spock said. He grabbed her arm, pulling her back down into the sleeping pod. "And please reseal the flap- it is far too cold outside with the sun still down."

"But- Vulcan, we have to get you to-to Vulcan, or you'll die right? How much time do you have?"

He reached across her and gave a sharp tug resealing the pod.

"Please, doctor, calm yourself. I assure you that my affliction, though rather uncomfortable, will not require any medical intervention."

"So it's not, that thing, that Vulcan mating thing?"

"No Christine, it is not the Pon Farr. I am still several years away from that time."

"But then why are you…well you know…?"

"Why am I aroused?"

"Well yes, why are you…aroused?"

"Did the Starfleet Medical curriculum not cover this topic sufficiently? It is not particularly complicated. I feel desire for you. The underlying desire combined with the close proximity of our sleeping arrangements and the pheromones your own body seems to be producing in particular abundance this evening translated into certain physiognomic manifestations that, it would appear, are somewhat beyond my normal levels of control."

"Wait- what the- you desire me? Me?" She moved back away from him pulling the blanket with her.

"I believe I have already stated that," he responded as he tugged sharply on the blanket.

"When-How long has that been going on?"

"Precisely six years, five months, twenty seven -"

"Okay, okay- I've got it. So, all of this time, you knew how I felt about you-why in the hell didn't you see fit to let me know? Why did you let me feel like such a fool for being in love with you?"

"It is… a complicated matter. When I first became aware of the feelings I was betrothed to another, as, I might add, were you. Later, when we were both free I did not see a union between us as being in your best interest. It seemed logical to simply suppress the feelings."

"My best interest, you're saying that breaking my heart was somehow in my best interest?"

"You are a human woman. I thought it logical that your needs would be better served by a human mate who would be able to give you that which I could not."

"I see," she said. Spock felt the cold wall of her anger between them again. "Basically, you didn't love me, but you wouldn't have minded fucking me."

"No, I do not believe that you see at all. You are intentionally twisting my words out of context, Christine. My experience with V'ger has caused me to reconsider many things about the manner in which I have lived my life. My subsequent meditations have led me to understand the error of my logic in failing to acknowledge certain possibilities."

"Possibilities?" she asked.

Before she had the chance to protest he pulled her to him and captured her lips in a slow, deep kiss. He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes." Possibilities, Christine, endless possibilities."

"Endless?"

"Vulcans do not, as you so colorfully put it, 'fuck.'"

"Disappointing- you seemed to be getting off to a pretty good start with that kiss."

"My people do not engage in casual sexual encounters as humans often do. For a Vulcan the act of sexual joining must be part of something greater, something more substantial. It must be more than just the joining of bodies."

"So Vulcans only engage in formal sex?"

"The bond between mated Vulcans involves a total and irrevocable commitment of each to the other."

"Whoa." She stiffened and hastily pulled out of his embrace. "'Mated,' 'commitment,' 'irrevocable.' Okay, that's it! You stay right here, I'm getting my medscanner. Either you're delirious or I'm hallucinating, or maybe both, but something is very, very wrong. We scanned for all known biologics-damn maybe we missed something."

"Christine."

"It's Chapel, Mr. Spock, Doctor Chapel. I should have known when you called me Christine something was wrong. Stay here, that's a medical order. I'm going to get my kit-and the others, I need to check on the others too. We may need to set up some sort of quarantine."

"Christine!" He grabbed her forearms gently, but firmly. "Please, calm yourself. I can assure you that I am quite in my right mind."

"Excuse me, I would prefer some objective proof. Wouldn't it be logical to assume that if you were delusional that thinking you are not delusional would be part of the delusion? Are you- laughing? You are! You think that's funny? That's it, I don't care what you say. I'm officially certifying you unfit for duty and removing you from command."

"I apologize. I do not believe that in the years of our association I have ever actually heard you use the word 'logic.'"

"You think 'logic' is funny?"

"I had never found it to be so in the past, but I must admit at this time it does seem to have a surprising aspect of amusement."

"Well I am far from amused, and your chucking Vulcan routine there isn't exactly disproving my theory that there is something seriously wrong with you." She struggled against him but he countered by pulling her closer and increasing his grip."Ouch! It feels like you're still locked and loaded there. If you let me go I can do something about that."

"Indeed?"

"Oh for the love of heaven, I've got a hypo spray of vasodiolater in my medkit. Okay, if you aren't delusional, and by the way I'm still not convinced that you aren't, then what exactly is going on here?'

"On the ship," Spock said hesitantly then paused for a moment. "It seemed as though you had made it a point to make yourself unavailable to me. I thought, perhaps here we might have an opportunity to talk."

"So you just wanted to talk to me? So why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I have made numerous attempts to talk to you over the past weeks and you have rebuffed my every attempt."

"I wasn't intentionally avoiding you." Christine sighed. "Okay I guess I was kind of intentionally avoiding you. Frankly I would have thought you'd have been relieved not having to worry about having to avoid me. I just wanted a fresh start here, a chance for people to stop seeing me as poor, pathetic, lovesickNurse Chapel. I thought coming back as CMO with a new crew would be a chance to put her and all of that that old pain behind me so I could move on with my life."

"Have you succeeded then, in moving on?"

"I'm trying to. I've actually been seeing someone."

"Lieutenant DeSalle?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I did not care for the way he looked at you when he offered to share his sleeppod."

"Well, I liked it! It was a nice to have a man look at me like that, like he wanted me, like I was someone worth wanting," she said, a faint tinge of anger in her voice.

Without giving him a chance to respond she tore open the seal flooding the sleeppod with the first rays of morning sunlight followed quickly with a gush of frigid air.

"I'll you get that hypospray, unless, you'd rather take care if it…you know, yourself."

"The hypospray would be most agreeable."

Christine exited the sleep pod and quickly donned one of the insulated envirojackets. She tossed a fresh fuel cell into the firepit before tossing several coffee cubes into the pot. Then she returned to the sleeppod with her medkit and a second envirojacket.

"Give me your arm."

Spock gingerly extended his forearm out side of the pod. He winced as the icy cold hypospray made contact with his bare skin.

"Big baby," she said as she handed him the thermal emergency jacket. "This should take effect within a couple of minutes then I'll officially return you to command. You can get breakfast going and start packing up the supplies."

"I see 'Captain' Chapel, and what, if I might ask, are you going to be doing?"

"I", she said with a fiendish smile, "will be sitting in front of the fire with a cup of hot coffee meditating."

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"Lieutenant DeSalle, do you love him?."

"I don't know," she responded. "I'm not sure, I think in time I could."

"Do you love me?"

"I don't want to love you."

"That is not an answer."

"What do you want Spock?"

"I believe that I have been quite clear about what it is that I want. But you seem determined not to hear what I'm saying. If you have chosen Mr. DeSalle then I must accept that. But please hear this: there has never been a time I considered you not worth wanting. I do not 'think' I could love you in time, Christine. I know that I will love you in time, and that love will continue to grow throughout the rest of our lives. It is the nature of the bond."

"So you're…what, asking me to marry you?"

"I would appear that I am."

"Couldn't we just sort of, date for a while? You know, sort of the old 'check out the milk before you buy the cow.'"

"If I am correctly interpreting the implication in your bovine analogy, that would not be possible."

"What do you mean not possible?"

"Vulcans do not… indulge outside of a bondmate relationship. It is not our way. Without the wholeness of the bond I would be unable to truly give you what you need, what you deserve."

"You're kidding me! You can't…without the bonding? What about that blonde botanist, what was her name? Leila something? Leonard told me all about the two of you running around like a couple of horny teenagers. You're telling me the two of you didn't 'indulge' like bunnies?"

"We did not. The spores, much like some of your 21st century medications ...enhanced certain emotional sensations at the expense of certain physiological functions."

"Oh."

Chapel closed her medkit and returned it to her pack.

"Yes." The single word, barely audible, broke free from her lips in a frosty vaporous cloud.

"Yes?"

"Yes I love you"

Spock's heart raced as she stripped off the heavy jacket and her boots and climbed back into the sleep pod beside him.

"We've got half an hour until we have to check in with the ship. This is going to have to be really fast. And just to be clear I have never engaged in casual sex."

"Not even with Mr. DeSalle?"

"Not even with Mr. DeSalle."

"That is most gratifying to know. He is an excellent officer with a promising career ahead of him. I would have deeply regretting killing him"

"So …once we, you know, do it, it's irrevocable?"

"Once the bond is consummated we will be joined totally, until death," he responded.

"What if…I don't know- say we encountered some sort of alien emperor and he was going to kill everyone on the ship unless I let him have his way with me?"

"If we are to engage in illogical speculation let us paint that same picture but with a beautiful alien empress?"

"I'm not really into women," she replied.

"Me, Christine, she would wish to have her way with me."

"The hot alien women always go for Kirk."

"Granted, however on this particular mission he is elsewhere."

"Hmmmm, I guess you could do that Vulcan neck pinchy thing and we'd all escape."

"Are you referring to the t'tsu'k'hy?"

"Yes, the tusky, whatever the neck thing."

"A most logical suggestion, I could perform the t'tsu'k'hy on the emperor as well and preserve your honor."

"How are we ever going to explain this to Leonard?" Christine asked, laughing softly.

"I do not wish to entertain thoughts of the good doctor at this time. I am awaiting your answer, Christine. Will you join yourself with me, as from the ancient times of my people, without reservation, irrevocably unto the portal of death?'

"Totally, irrevocably, yes. You may now kiss the bride."

"I believe I have already kissed you have I not? It was not sufficient?"

"Sufficient? What…you're joking right? You sure as hell better be joking!"

"I am capable of mirth, Christine."

"What else are you capable of? I'll tell you right now, this 'cow' better be prepared to put out or I might trade it in for some magic beans."

"I shall consider myself placed on notice."

"You've really never done this?"

"I have not, though I believe I have more than sufficient theoretical data to begin the procedure."

"The 'procedure'? Are you sure you know what you're doing here? You're not removing my appendix."

"I do admit to a lack of experiential data in this endeavor, however need I remind you that I am first and foremost a man of science? As a scientist I have a thorough understanding of the desired outcome in this situation and shall relentlessly pursue any and all means to achieve said outcome."

"Relentlessly?"

"Relentlessly, Christine."

"I like the sound of that. In the interest of science I find I have no choice but to bid you proceed. I hope to heaven these sleeppods really are soundproof."

This is the link to the post on George Takei's facebook page that inspired this fic

. ?fbid=565270973502360&set=a.223098324386295.105971.205344452828349&type=1&theater


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